


The Lines Begin to Blur

by Copirion



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Anal Plug, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, M/M, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copirion/pseuds/Copirion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian doesn't want a sub, but he does want Tim. The two seem to come hand in hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lines Begin to Blur

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot of fun to write, though it's my first fic ever posted and the first NSFW fic I've ever written! Damian's so great to write. Also, this is set when Damian is older and thus not underage.
> 
> Title from Nine Inch Nails' "The Lines Begin to Blur".

Damian walked into his room at half past four in the morning, caught sight of Tim, and completely scrapped his plans for the night. Tim was naked and kneeling, his eyes lidded and nipples peaked in the chilly air, his cock flushed and erect, the perfect picture of submission and obedience. Except for where his right hand was carefully holding his cockhead between three fingers, the tip of his index finger just barely digging into his slit, not moving or stroking, just holding still.

His breath caught at the sight of Tim on the floor next to his bed; the nights when Tim gave himself up, turned himself over to Damian, were his favorites. When Tim went to his knees, his only desire to please the other, he was at Damian’s mercy. He trusted Damian enough to do this; _forgave_ him enough to do this.

Trust and forgiveness were nice and all, but at the heart of the matter Damian _loved_ to hurt Tim.

And really, Tim loved it when Damian pushed him around.

Damian had been planning on tying Tim to the bed and fucking his brains out, but now… Tim had given him a good idea, and he looked like he wanted it. They’d never tried it, but Damian had the necessary supplies.

Tim had glanced up at his entrance, but now his attention had dropped back down to his cock, where he was ever so slowly moving the finger in his slit in small circles. Damian leered at him and moved to the chest full of their toys, rummaging around for a minute before he found what he was looking for.

He crouched in front of Tim and forced the other man’s chin up, smirking a little cruelly. He lifted the zippered pouch to Tim’s eyes, grinning at the instant recognition that flitted through them and the mix of emotions that cycled through before finally stopping on lust. Damian licked his lips at the sudden surge of arousal that spiked through him.

“Now’s the time to say no, Drake,” Damian taunted, a hard edge to his voice. How he wanted to make this boy submit… but if Tim said no, play time was over. Damian hated not getting what he wanted.

When Tim did nothing, Damian stood up, laying out lube, condoms, and some toys on the bed. He gripped the pouch; everything in the room seemed to quiet in anticipation and the sound of the opening zipper was obscenely loud. Tim’s exhale was shaky as the gleaming metal of the sounding kit was revealed, and he closed his eyes. Damian smiled. He lay the kit on the bed and wandered into the adjacent bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “On the bed, Drake.” He quickly stripped his clothes off, taking the time to check over his bruises and cuts and make sure nothing could get in the way of tonight. He trusted Tim to do the same; only Damian got to hurt him during sex.

While he stood in the bathroom, gripping the counter, he wondered how long Tim had been kneeling there, waiting for his return, achingly hard and unwilling to do anything without Damian’s consent. His sub, a dangerous part of Damian’s mind whispered, _his_. But Damian didn’t want that, didn’t want Tim to be his sub with all the connotations that came with it. Just because Tim trusted him and wanted him, because they used each other as a mutual means of releasing stress, didn’t mean they had a relationship.

He waited until long after the sounds of Tim moving had abated before he returned; he loved making Tim wait, hovering just out of sight to hear him shift and squirm in discomfort, knowing he wasn’t allowed to bring himself over the edge.

When he walked back in, Tim’s eyes were locked on the sounding kit laid out in front of him as he kneeled on Damian’s bed. He looked so good, Damian wanted to taste him so badly.

Instead he climbed onto the bed and slid one hand along Tim’s knee. The older man bit his lip against the groan that wanted to escape; he knew Damian liked to work for Tim’s sounds. He slid his hand along Tim’s thigh, scraping his nails along the skin for Tim’s stifled whine until he got to Tim’s cock, where he dragged his nails, feather-light, across the purpling skin of his erection. He tapped his finger to the dripping head, lifting his finger to his mouth as a line of pre-ejaculate stretched between his finger and Tim’s cockhead.

It was salty and bitter, but the texture was just right on Damian’s tongue to put him in the mood. “Drake,” he drawled, smiling when Tim’s head shot up, his eyes half-lidded and pupils blown, clenched fists digging crescents into his palms. “You’re mine.”

Tim shuddered and the tension in his shoulders seeped away, his head falling back to bare his throat; Damian licked his lips hungrily, wanting desperately to rip the man to shreds beneath his teeth, but he forced that part of himself down and grabbed the sounding kit and the lube. Selecting a smaller rod, he covered it in lube and squirted some on Tim’s dick as well, mixing it in with Tim’s pre-ejaculate and into Tim’s slit. Tears had formed at the corners of Tim’s eyes when Damian glanced up again, and he paused to lean forward and carefully lick them up, laughing at Tim’s tiny flinch and moan.

Damian set the tip of the sound against Tim’s slit, hyper aware of the bead of sweat dripping down his neck as he felt Tim’s body relax into his touch. He had dreamed about taking Tim this way since he was old enough to have those types of dreams and the sight made his mouth water. He slid the metal into Tim’s slit and nearly forgot to breathe at the sight of the sound disappearing into Tim’s penis, like an extension of Damian’s hand. This was Damian’s and only his; right now he was Tim’s first and _god_ was it addicting. Tim whined, high and thready, and his dick jumped in Damian’s hand. He whimpered at the sensation, his fists spasming on his thighs, one rising to grasp Damian’s wrist.

Everything in his body wanted to snap at the man for reaching out, for stopping him; Damian carefully bottled that part away, knowing that if Tim told him to stop here, he would stop, no matter how much he wanted to see Tim’s body stuffed and presented for him.

But Tim just breathed for a minute and let go, digging his nails into his thigh. “I-I’m okay,” he stuttered out. Damian nodded; if anyone knew their limits, it was Tim. He pushed in again, this time a continuous plunge until half the sound was seated in Tim’s penis. He stopped to spill more lube on it before pushing again until finally the little metal ball dragged against the slit. Tim sucked in and held a huge breath, letting it out with a whoosh and a loud whine. “Dami,” he mumbled.

God, Tim sounded absolutely _wrecked_. Damian had planned to lay him over his lap and spank him until he sobbed, but Tim was giving him _everything_ tonight. For once, Damian wanted to really show Tim that he… cared, maybe. Or that he took care of his belongings.

Damian grasped the base of Tim’s cock in a loose grip, slowly stroking him. He could only imagine what the pressure must feel like; wondered if Tim even really felt it when his mind was like this, hazy and submissive. Tim’s cock twitched again and his hips made an aborted thrust in the air.

He snorted at Tim’s eagerness and ran his nails up Tim’s cock again, then abruptly grabbed Tim’s neck and tugged him forward until Tim had to brace himself on his hands and knees, ass in the air and dick swaying beneath his body. His face was buried in Damian’s lap, nose pressed to his balls.

Tim’s back was pale and scarred like a desert plain and Damian’s fingers traced lazy patterns down Tim’s spine to his crack where he pressed teasingly at the man’s hole. Tim gasped against his skin, groaning into the root of Damian’s cock, pre-ejaculate dripping down into his hair and face and collecting on his eyelashes. He looked thoroughly debauched; Damian wanted to like him clean, wanted to dirty him, to hold him carefully and fuck him until he cried.

“Fuck, Drake,” Damian bit out. “Everyone should see you like this: ass in the air, mouth ready to take my cock, dick stuffed just for me.” Tim whimpered, more tears slipping out the corners of his eyes and down his face. Damian grabbed his chin, dragging Tim’s mouth up to his cockhead. “Suck me.”

If Damian loved to hurt people, Tim loved giving oral sex.

Tim moaned and sucked a quick bruising kiss to the underside of Damian’s cockhead before bobbing his head, taking him deeper and deeper. Damian groaned, thrusting into that tight suction, hands spasming until he could force his thoughts together. Tim’s heat was so enticing to get lost in, but Damian had plans to fulfill.

Tim moaned as he thrust his hips, his dick bumping against the sheets, not letting him forget the sound forcing him open. He bobbed again and again, dragging his tongue along the ridge as Damian stifled a whimper. Tim loved to bring Damian to the edge, to feel good. He opened his throat and sucked Damian’s penis deep over and over.

When Damian groaned louder this time, he bobbed his head again, dragging his lips down Damian’s length to the base and back. But just as he got to the head, Damian gripped his hair and forced him off again. “Turn around,” he rumbled, voice deep with arousal. Tim’s dick twitched again, spasming around the sound, and he complied, twisting around to bury his face in the pillows, his ass presented to Damian.

Tim’s ass was just the right amount away from perfect. It was round, slightly hairy with a mole dotting the top of his left cheek. It matched Tim well, and Damian could admire it for hours. As the seconds dragged on, Tim squirmed at his appraisal, and Damian spanked him _hard_ , Tim’s dick bobbing with the force. It was nearly torture at this point, every movement forcefully reminding him of the sound down his urethra. Tim sobbed and pressed back against Damian’s hand. Damian smiled.

Finally he moved, drizzling lube over Tim’s hole and his fingers, smearing around Tim’s clenching rim in dizzying patterns, screwing his thumb into the tight heat in pulses, dragging it in and out, in and out. He replaced it with one finger, slowly twisting and speeding up, teasing Tim with quick jabs. He added another, stretching his fingers to reach deep inside, and Tim screamed when he glanced off Tim’s prostate on hair hard thrust. It was hot and demanding, dominating Tim from the inside out. Tim felt so full, so good. He was owned, and he loved it.

After three fingers and countless minutes, Tim was thrusting back into every push, a continuous stream of half-finished words falling from his lips. With one last deep press, Damian pulled his fingers out, kissed Tim’s clenching hole, and reached for the lube again. This time he grabbed the black plug from his selection and slathered it with slick before setting it against Tim’s hole. When Tim breathed out a long, desperate sigh, Damian pushed the plug all the way in.

Tim heaved in a breath at the intrusion, body stuttering and nearly collapsing on the sheets as he clenched the fabric in his hands. He whined, high and thready, and his back bowed under the weight of the perfection of this, his own submission and Damian’s care.

Damian’s heart was pounding; Tim looked perfect and beautiful and _his_. Tim was _his sub_.

“You’re mine, Tim,” he breathed, laying a line of kisses down Tim’s spine to where Tim’s rim clenched around Damian’s plug.

_“You’re mine.”_


End file.
